


Legally Kaner

by miscalainaeous



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Inspired by a Movie, Law School, Legally Blonde AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-18 20:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10624788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miscalainaeous/pseuds/miscalainaeous
Summary: “What? Like it’s hard?” he starts, trying to sound cocky. “Harvard Law… What’s so special about it anyway? They let me in.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow I convinced myself writing a Legally Blonde AU would be fun.

**I.**

 

Patrick Kane has everything. His family is rich, thanks to his dad’s very successful luxury car dealership back home. He has his looks; girls have always fawned over those precious baby blue eyes and the beautiful curls that he spends way too much time maintaining. He’s vice president of Sig Ep, has a great GPA, a killer internship lined up with the Chicago Blackhawks, and he has his girl. Well, had. About an hour ago everything in his life seemed to go to shit.

Patrick lies down in his bed with his face smashed into the pillows. He could still feel the small box in his front pocket, the box he never got to take out at dinner.

\---

_Everything about the night was perfect. Dinner at the restaurant they had their first real date, candles, a clear night sky over the patio. He had gone to a nice store and picked out a new shirt and pant set just for this._

_Nicole showed up in a brand new dress, black and short, but classy and perfect, just like she was. He felt so fucking lucky._

_“I really think it’s important that we take the next step in our lives,” Pat started, hands on his thighs, trying to stop their nervous shaking._

_“So do I, I’m so glad we’re on the same page,” Nicole said with that beaming smile across her face that first caught Pat’s attention at a Sig Ep party freshman year. Those dark brown eyes stared at him from across the table._

_“I’m so excited for what’s in store after graduation, and I love you, you know that. I really, really love you, Pat,” she continued. At this rate she was going to propose for him and they could skip over all the sappy stuff he had rehearsed for days. “I think it’s really important that we take the next steps in our lives seriously, and I think you’ve probably seen this coming for some time now, but we need to discuss it. We won’t be together next year and we need to decide what that means for us right now.”_

_Pat could feel the confusion take over his expression. Won’t be together next year? What that means for right now? He obviously wasn’t on the same page as her, he loses track of the conversation and starts thinking about the ten grand Tiffany engagement ring his mom had helped him pick out, that currently feels like a 10 pound rock in his pocket._

_Nicole continued to talk but Pat was in a daze, only picking up a few words here or there. Harvard. Across the country. Break up. Necessary._

_Pat doesn’t wait for her to stop talking before he interrupted her, “Wait, what the fuck do you mean Harvard?” he said at a much louder than he meant to._

_“You didn’t see my tweet today? I got my early acceptance from Harvard Law!” Nicole said, her expression faltering from the smile that had stayed on her face while she talked passionately about their separate future just a moment before._

_“No, I didn’t see your fucking tweet, I was in class all day! So what, you’re just moving across the country and we aren’t going to talk about this? You didn’t even consider that I might go with you?”_

_“You have your internship lined up with the Blackhawks and your fam-”_

_“Fuck the Hawks. Fuck my family. We have been together four years. You didn’t think I would be ready and willing to follow you out to Boston? There are other hockey teams and other jobs.” Pat was livid and he knew he should calm down, talk slower, maybe lower his voice a bit but he was angry and keeping his voice down was the least of his concerns._

_“Pat…” Nicole started, “It might not just be about you following me… My family has expectations… My career path is pretty set… I need to have a guy who–”_

_“Oh so now I’m not good enough for you and your family? My family is just as wealthy as yours. I’m going to the same school as you and passing all my classes. I’m vice president of my fraternity, I have extracurriculars out of my ass and a fucking awesome internship lined up and that’s still not enough for your rich family of lawyers and politicians?”_

_“Pat…” Nicole tries again._

_“No, fuck this. Apparently there is no future if you think we can just end like this. I thought we were in this. I thought we were forever... And you are fucking happy to leave me. Whatever, Nicole. See you around.” Pat gets up, balls the napkin from his lap and throws it down on the table. His wine glass tips and the red wine in it starts to spread towards Nicole. He doesn’t care. Fuck her designer dress and her designer shoes and her designer, cookie-cutter life._

\---

There was a banging on his door. He wasn’t moving, he didn’t feel like dealing with whatever was going on elsewhere in the house. He could hear the thump of music from the basement. It was Saturday night after all, and the guys in the Sig Ep house never missed a party on a Saturday, but Pat felt tonight was a special exception. He was perfectly content smothering himself with his pillow until he passed out.

But after a few minutes, the banging didn’t stop and eventually he heard whoever was on the other side (it was probably his little brother, Brandon) announcing that they were coming in whether he liked it or not. The door swung open and Brandon headed towards Pat’s bed, picking up a pillow and hitting him with it in the process.

“Dude, party downstairs. Andrew convinced some of the Kappas to play strip pong and they’ve already lost their pants,” Brandon tells him.

“Not tonight,” Pat grumbles into his pillow.

“Can’t hear you, bro,” Brandon says as he starts to pull Pat’s arm and attempt to force him out of bed.

Pat groans and lifts his face from the pillow. “I don’t give a fuck about half naked Kappa’s. Get out, shut the door, and turn off the light if you feel like not being a total asshole.”

“Nicole wouldn’t suck your dick tonight?” Brandon started, “what’s your deal? Strip pong is your favorite game.”

Pat turns to his side and reaches in his pocket. He pulls out the small blue box and throws it at Brandon, who manages to catch the box after bobbling it a few times. He opens it and sighs before forcing a smile. “I love you Pat, but I’m pretty sure I can’t marry you,” he huffs out, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“I was gonna ask Nic to marry me tonight. Didn’t even get that out of my pocket before I found out she is dumping me and moving to Cambridge,” Pat says, he can feel the tears starting to well in his eyes. He’s kept it pretty much together until this point. Besides the yelling at the restaurant, he has yet to cry. He’s an emotional dude and his brothers have seen him cry before, so he isn’t gonna hide his tears.

“Woah… man… I’m..” Brandon says, trying to be supportive but at a loss for words. In their circle, it’s usually the guys doing the dumping and there’s lots of alcohol flowing when they have deep conversations like this.

“Apparently the Kane family isn’t good enough to breed with the Elmhurst’s,” Patrick starts, “she got pissy with me for not seeing her tweet about getting into Harvard, then told me that even if I were to follow her out there, she didn’t want to be together because her parents didn’t approve or some bullshit.”

“Wait,” Brandon starts after thinking over what Pat had just said, “so you’re sitting here crying over a girl who told you you weren’t good enough and even when you offered to follow her across the country, she still said no?” Brandon lets out an exaggerated laugh before continuing, “Man, fuck her Kaner. You’re Vice President of Sig Ep, top of the Sports Management program, have a bomb ass internship lined up with the fucking Chicago Blackhawks, and she says you aren’t good enough? Fuck her, there are plenty of other chicks who would kill to go out with you.”

“Dude it’s more than that,” Pat says. He’s been running over this argument in his head since the minute he stood up from that table at dinner. “I was ready to propose. I don’t know if you’ve met me, but commitment is a big fucking deal for me. And she was perfect. A hot Zeta who had her head on straight, good grades, and who wasn’t just in it for my families money ‘cause she has her own. I don’t know if she just didn’t pay attention, but I changed for her. She called me out at the end of sophomore year for slacking off and my shit GPA and look at me now. She did that. She made me better and I want to be with her.”

Brandon takes a second before opening his mouth to respond, but before words come out, someone comes barreling through Pat’s door (again).

“Kaner! Saader!” Seabs yells as he stomps into the room. “We have two topless Kappas in the basement and you two homos are sitting in here doing what exactly?”

Pat turns his face away from Seabs to try and hide the splotches he knows he gets when he cries, but it’s too late.

“Oh, shit dude,” he starts, “sorry for busting in here like that. What’s wrong?”

That’s one thing Pat always liked about his brothers, sure they were all fucking nutjobs who are loud and offensive, but a brother in need is a brother in need and they were there for each other.

“Kaner was gonna propose to his girl tonight,” Brandon starts, “but apparently she had different plans and broke up with him.”

“I have the perfect thing for right now,” Seabs announces before running out of the room as unceremoniously as he entered.

“I can leave,” Brandon starts, “if you want, I can leave. Let Seabs know you need some alone time, and we can talk about this more tomorrow.”

“No,” Pat says, “it’s fine. Maybe I should head down to the party, drink ‘till I blackout or something. Haven’t done that in like a year.”

Pat starts to drag himself out of bed as the door swings open again. Seabs slams a bottle of Jack and three shot glasses down on Pat’s desk. “Tonight boys, we drink,” he proclaims as he starts to twist open the bottle.

“We can go downstairs, half naked kappas,” Pat tries, but the lack of enthusiasm in his voice is obvious.

“Nah, you don’t need to be around all that,” Seabs has finished opening the bottle and moved on to overfilling each shot glass, “besides, everyone can tell you’ve been crying like a little bitch, and Dayna will murder me if it gets back to her that I was playing strip pong… again.” He hands Pat and Brandon each a shot glass. “So tonight, we’re gonna sit up here, finish off this bottle of Jack, and talk about feelings and shit .. or how hot Mila Kunis is, your choice.”

\---

Four or five or ten shots later, the three of them are sprawled out around Pat’s room. Pat is still on the bed, Brandon is laying across the floor and Seabs is in Pat’s desk chair with his legs stretched over Brandon to rest his feet on the bed.

“I just can’t believe she dumped me,” Pat slurs.

Seabs groans, “So, we’re back on this?”

“I mean, dude,” he tries, as he sits up on his bed, “I am just as good as any of those Harvard prissy ass dickwads she’s gonna find out there.”

Brandon lets out a loud laugh, “Okay, bud sure.”

“No, fuck you. I can totally do it,” Pat says, fully sitting up now, but still slurring his words and listing to the left a bit. “I can get into Harvard and I can be a lawyer and shit. And I can prove that I am worthy of her family.”

“Dude,” Seabs chimes in, “what about the Blackhawks? Wasn’t your goal to work with an original six team? You gonna give that up for a chick?”

“So, I’ll be a lawyer for the team instead of a scout. Or... fuck–maybe a lawyer would make a great GM, with contract negotiations and shit,” lightbulbs are going off in Pat’s head. He may be drunk and not able to see completely straight, but this seems like the greatest plan he has ever had.

As he grabs his laptop from the table next to his bed, Brandon starts to sit up, shoving Seabs’ legs. “Okay Kaner, you do that,” he says as he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check  the time. “But it’s four AM, you’re wasted, and I’m going to bed.” He gestures for Seabs to help him up and the two intruders head to the door, “Tell me how you feel about going to Harvard in the morning, when you’re sober and more awake.”

“Okay, but I’m totally gonna do it,” Pat says, furiously attempting to get to the Harvard website, but his fingers keep hitting the wrong keys, “Night guys… And.. uh… Thanks, for all of this,” he gestures around the room and to himself.

Both guys wave him off and head out the door. Pat has managed to get Harvard Laww typed into the google search page before yawning, closing his laptop, then his eyes.

 

**II.**

 

Pat hadn’t bothered to look at a campus map before he left for his first class, which turns out to be his first mistake at Harvard. He’s looked at each building trying to figure out the right one, but with no luck.

“Excuse me,” he says, tapping on the shoulder of a guy sitting on a bench outside the library. “Can you tell me where I can find Emerson? I’m looking for Professor Quenneville’s class.”

The guy looked up at Pat and furrowed his brow, “Uh, yea, it’s actually, this way…” he says pointing in the direction Pat had just come from, “I’m heading there now, I can show you.”

Pat stares at the quiet, dark eyed guy with the serious scowl on his face before finally turning to follow him back the way he had just come from.

They walk in an awkward silence towards the building Pat had passed about three times. Nearly halfway across the quad, Pat decides to break the silence.

“First day of class for you too?” Pat asks. He knows no one here, except Nicole, maybe he should attempt to befriend a person or two, and this guy seems pretty harmless.

“No,” is the only answer he gets.

“How long have you been here?” Pat prys.

“This is my third year,” the guy responds in a short cut off sentence. He clearly doesn’t seem interested in small talk with Pat. He puts some space between them and follows him up the stairs of the building.

“Well thanks for showing me the way man,” he says, sticking his fist out for a bump. The brown eyed, tall guy just looks at him.

“Uh, no problem. Watch out for Quenneville. He won’t let you get anything the easy way,” the guy says, before turning towards the entrance and leaving Pat behind, fist still waiting to be bumped.

Well, if this is how all the guys at Harvard are going to be, Pat might have a hard time making friends. Whatever. He was weird anyway.

\---

Pat is desperately trying not to slam his fists on the desk in frustration during the middle of this exam, but he’s having a hard time controlling himself. He basically missed out on his senior year of undergrad to study for one exam and try and raise his already decent as hell GPA to get into this stupid law school, but from the minute he stepped on campus, this shit has been nothing but a complete tire fire.

After a month of classes, he is at a complete loss.

Nicole? That chick he did all this for? Turns out she’s already found the one and seems to have completely moved on, like the last four years never happened. As for school? His classes are all terrible and he wouldn’t be surprised if his highest grade was a D. And what about friends? He has zero. No friends. Everyone here tagged him as a frat boy loser the minute he got here and apparently they want nothing to do with him.

He’s tried. Small talk with people in the student center, people he’s been assigned to work with for group projects, students in his classes. No one seems to give a fuck.

So Harvard Law kinda sucks... Okay, it really fucking sucks.

Pat can barely keep his cool as he finishes his exam. He’s so angry he’s having trouble telling which bubble indicates which letter on the scantron. He’s close to walking out of the test. Walking out of the building. Walking off of campus. But he isn’t going to let Harvard make him a bitch, so he pushes through and fills in the last bubble.

As he walks towards the Professor’s desk, the man behind it looks up and stares him down. He still remembers the piece of advice he got from that guy who showed him where the building was on his first day, “Watch out for Quenneville. He won’t let you get anything the easy way.” And he wasn’t lying. This was easily his hardest class. Criminal law. The one that actually sounded the most fun when he signed up for classes was the one closest to making him drop out and give up on Harvard all together.

Pat sets his test booklet and scantron in their respective piles and takes a step towards the door.

“Please go back to your seat, Mr. Kane,” Quenneville mutters from under his mustache, “I would like to speak to you after class.”

Pat didn’t even realize the groan he lets out when he turned back to his chair, but the four sets of eyes that dart up to stare at him make him feel like he was in trouble and just made it worse.

He considers pulling out his phone and scrolling through twitter, but is pretty sure the death glare Quenneville would give him would be strong enough to light him on fire. He decides he’s better off looking like he’s trying in at least some of his classes and pulls out his Law Ethics textbook to skim through until everyone else has finished the test.

Twenty or so minutes later, Pat is so invested in what he’s been reading that he doesn’t notice he’s the last one in the classroom until Quenneville sits on the desk in front of him.

“Kane, you’re struggling in my class,” Quenneville starts, “and I’ve talked with some other professors; it seems you might be having trouble in their courses too.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that Pat doesn’t think it’s worth agreeing with since Quenneville obviously knows he’s right.

“I have a student doing an assistantship with me this semester,” Quenneville continues, “I don’t have a ton of work to keep his hours occupied, so I think this could be an interesting experiment if he were to take you under his wing.”

“A tutor?” Pat asks as he finally dares to make eye contact with Quenneville.

“Think of him more as a mentor,” Quenneville starts, “his name is Jonathan. He’s in his third year here, and quite successful so far. Here’s his email address. I’ve told him to watch for something from you. Don’t bother coming back to my class until you have set up something with him.”

Quenneville hands Pat a slip of paper with an email address and the full name of Jonathan Toews on it. He’s still confused. Supposedly this is the toughest professor in school. Hard as a rock and gives no mercy to anyone, yet here he is trying to help Pat out.

“Why are you helping me?” Pat starts, then realizes he sounds a bit harsh. “I mean, I’ve been told your class is the hardest and you don’t cut anyone any slack, but you…”

Pat notices a small hint of a smile peek out from under the mustache. “I read your admission essay,” Quenneville starts, “I thought you had a lot of potential. I still think you do, I just don’t think you’ve found your motivation.”

Damn right he hadn’t found his motivation. Or at least he had, but lost it right away when he got here to find another guy on Nicole’s arm.

“Thanks,” Pat still is unsure about this. He’s considered dropping out so much the past week that this still feels like it won’t help. “I’ll email him today.”

“You do that Kane,” Quenneville replies, “and have him help you with the assignment for next class, he aced this course, he can give you some good pointers.”

Pat shoves his ethics book back in his backpack and heads towards the door feeling just the slightest bit less stressed, or at least he was until he walked out of the building and into Nicole basically smothering her new boyfriend with her face.

“Oh shit,” Pat starts before realizing who he ran into, turning red and turning to run.

“Pat!” Nicole calls out to stop him. “Pat, I’ve been meaning to call you. What the hell are you doing here? I’ve seen you around but why? How did you get into Harvard Law?”

They still hadn’t talked since they first saw each other from across the quad on the second day of their welcome week.

Pat turns back to her and tries to turn on his old frat boy confidence but it just isn’t the same as it was, “What? Like it’s hard?” he starts, trying to sound cocky. “Harvard Law… What’s so special about it anyway? They let me in.”

He knew that would set her off. This was her family’s pride. A long line of Harvard graduates who were better than everyone else. That’s why she had to break up with him. He didn’t give her a chance to reply before turning and continuing back towards his apartment.

\--

_Jonathan-_

_Professor Quenneville asked me to contact you about helping me out this semester. I’m not really sure what he wants us to be doing, but he said I can’t go back to his class until we meet. Let me know when you are free._

_Thanks_

_Patrick Kane_

 

Patrick shoots off the email, and even though it’s only 8pm on Friday, he passes the fuck out because this week was exhausting as hell.

He wakes up at 10am Saturday morning. He didn’t plan on sleeping the whole time, but apparently, he needed it. Since his lack of social life since starting Harvard Law, he has a measly two twitter notifications, a facebook comment and five emails. He scrolls through a few reminders about assignments, one rescheduled group project session, and a reply from Jonathan.

_Hello Patrick._

_Please meet me at the Dunkin on Church at 11am tomorrow._

_Thank you,_

_Jonathan Toews_

 

Well, shit. That was now less than an hour away and completely across campus. So Pat throws on a hoodie, pulls up a pair of jeans that were lying in the corner and heads out.

He gets there at 10:55 and since there’s no one who seems to be waiting for anyone else, he goes up to place his order before claiming a table for two in the mildly busy donut shop.

A few minutes pass by before a sweaty looking tall guy with a hockey gear bag comes in and frantically looks around before locking eyes with Pat. Pat feels like he knows the guy, but can’t quite figure it out. The guy walks over to him and drops his bag.

“You Patrick?” He asks in the most monotone voice Pat has ever heard.

“Yeah, Patrick Kane. He sticks out his hand for a shake before realizing that he doesn’t want to touch the dude literally dripping in sweat. “Call me Pat though. Hey… Do I know you?”

“I’m Jonny,” he starts, “and uh… I don’t think we’ve ever met? Sorry I’m running late, the guys held me up at the rink.”

“Hockey?” Pat asks, raising an eyebrow, this guy doesn’t look like your typical player, especially with the star law school student background Pat’s been told about.

“Yeah,” Jonny starts before moving to sit, “just a beer league. Saturday practice, Sunday night games. Good for stress.”

“Cool man... I used to play. Made it all the way to juniors before I fucked up my wrist,” he says as he ghosts his fingers over the scar he has there “and now I’m here, probably about to flunk out of Harvard.”

“Yeah, you aren’t flunking out on my watch,” Jonny laughs, and it’s the first emotion he’s shown since they met a few minutes ago.

“Pretty sure I’m already a lost cause dude, none of this makes any sense to me,” Pay says as he gestures at all the books and papers he managed to sprawl across the table in his short time waiting for Jonny.

“Q said you need to pass his class. And all your classes,” Jonny says, back in the monotone he started with, “it’s my job this semester to help you. I don’t know what it is about you, he hates 95 percent of people who walk through his classroom door. He barely tolerates the other 4.9 percent. And you? Well somehow you ended up in the same boat as me. Q’s special project. So I’m going to help you.”

“So why did he pick you as a special project?” Pat asks, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. Maybe they had similar stories. Maybe there was something in Jonny that Q, as Jonny was calling him, had seen in Pat.

“I got here and I worked my ass off. I was constantly studying. Non-stop, lived and breathed my schoolwork. And I had a job,” Jonny is shuffling through all of Pat’s belongings on the table as he talks, “I came here to get a good job, help my mom out. I used to play too. Made it to college level. Then I got a concussion and it was bad, so I had to quit right before my draft. I was going to make it to the NHL and suddenly I had nothing. I was supposed to be great and help my mom out so she never had to work again.”

Jonny talks so passionately that Pat is in awe. He definitely didn’t expect this.

“So I set a new goal. Become a lawyer,” Jonny continued, “college athletes don’t get paid. Schools don’t insure them well, my future was destroyed and I had no compensation. So I plan on becoming an attorney focusing in sports. Representing injured players, players fucked over by their contracts, and helping reform the system for college athlete representation. I figured a Harvard educated lawyer probably made a decent amount of money, so I decided I had to go here.”

“But, back to why Q picked me, I overworked myself. I was going crazy. Random outbursts in class if I got a test back and had gotten a question wrong. It was killing me, and my advisors had talked to me about taking a year off, but I knew I couldn’t do it. So Q pulled me aside one day and talked to me. He wanted to help. I met with him once a week, we worked on my schedule and my priorities. Getting good grades was never a problem, it was just how I worked towards those. He’s good at figuring out what students need and what motivates them. He’s actually the guy who encouraged me to get back into playing in a rec league. Said it might clear my head a bit.”

“That’s awesome man,” Pat starts, “still doesn’t help me figure out why the hell he chose me to be his next project or whatever.”

Jonnys finished shuffling everything on the table around, it appears to be in some sort of order not disclosed to Pat. “Well,” Jonny says, “Lets start with the basics, what made you choose Harvard?”

“My ex-”

“Of course,” Jonny laughs, “guys like you always let a girl trick them into something crazy.”

“What?” Pat exclaims, actually feeling a bit offended, “No, I didn’t let her talk me into this. I did this in spite of her. She said I wasn’t good enough… for her, for her family. I was about to propose when she told me she was dumping me and moving halfway across the country to go to this damn school and that her family expected her to find someone better.”

Pat hasn’t said this out loud to anyone since he got to school. The idea that he isn’t good enough for anyone still bothers him, and knowing that he is failing at this right now hurts even more. He knows he cries easily, but crying in a damn Dunkin’ Donuts is not how he pictured this meeting going. He discreetly tries to wipe the tears forming in the corners of his eyes, but he’s pretty sure the unavoidable sniffle gives him away.

“Uh…” Jonny starts, and clearly Pat has made him uncomfortable. Pat starts gathering up everything on the table because clearly this was a bad idea. He can drop out and be back in Chicago by the end of the week. Sure, he doesn’t have his internship anymore but there’s always next year. Before Pat can mess up whatever Jonny had set up though, Jonny grabs his hand. “Dude, no, stop,” Jonny continues, “That’s the motivation right there, prove you can do it. That’s why you’re here. You just aren’t trying hard enough yet.”

“I have been trying,” Pat says, voice cracking, “obviously I’m just not good enough.”

“You passed all your classes in college, right?”

“Yes.”

“You got at least a 175 on your LSAT, right?”

“179.”

“Okay, so you obviously are smart enough to get into Harvard Law, you just aren’t working hard enough.”

“I am!” Patrick shouts.

“Dude, I went through all your shit.” Jonny waves to the table. “You aren’t. You don’t even have a fucking laptop with you.”

“All my notes are right here,” Pat holds up the five subject Five Star notebook that was sitting in front of him.

“No, that’s not all your notes. You are in law school, not high school english! You need to be typing notes. You need to be taking notes in class, out of class, your books should be tabbed, highlighted and falling apart from how much you are reading them over. This book,” he points towards one he moved to the top of the pile, “looks like you haven’t even opened it since you got it.”

“I’ve been using the same studying and note taking techniques that got me through high school and undergrad,” Pat rebuttals.

“Yeah… No, that’s not good enough for Harvard. You need planners, schedules, word docs, excel spreadsheets, you need every minute of your free time planned out to keep you on track. We will start with making you a study schedule for the next week. Tomorrow I’ll show you how to properly take notes.” Jonny give orders like it’s what he was meant to do. It wouldn’t surprise Pat if Jonny was captain of every hockey team he’s ever played for.

Jonny grabs Pat’s notebook and tears a blank sheet from the back and starts scribbling words down. “Here is a list of everything you need to pick up for tomorrow. Have all this ready. I will come over to your apartment and we will go over proper study spaces and note taking techniques.”

He hands the paper to Pat. “Dude, this is fucking chicken scratch. I can’t read this,” Pat complains. Jonny snatches the paper back and scribbles down something else.

“If you can’t figure something out, text me.” Jonny pushes the paper back towards him. “That’s my number.”

Before Pat even has a chance to reply, Jonny is up, hauling his gear bag back on his shoulder and telling Pat to text him his address. He informs Pat that he’ll be there at noon tomorrow, then heads towards the door.

\--

Pat didn’t even have a chance to ask Jonny what all the organizing was that he had done on the table. He seemed like a man on a mission to get out of there, so Pat had shoved everything back into his backpack and headed out. He looked over the list and figured he could stop at the bookstore on his way home and pick up most of it, and he didn’t even have to text Jonny to figure out what some of the words were.

Pat heads back to his apartment weighed down by two shopping bags full of new study materials and equipment, flops down on his bed and nearly falls asleep again before figuring he should try this studying thing again.

Forty-five minutes into studying, he decides it’s break time. And Saturday study break time means a nice glass of vodka on the rocks. Three drinks and possibly one round of Call of Duty (but no one needs to know that) later, Pat is back to the books and even more frustrated than before. It’s four in the afternoon. He’s drunk. And he is trying to convince himself, yet again, that he can’t walk to the registrar’s office, drunk on a Saturday, to drop out.

He grabs the piece of paper from his pocket that Jonny scrawled his number onto and types out a text.

_Bought all this shit. Don’t know how it’s supposed to help. Still can’t study._

Pat throws his phone to the other end of the couch and starts squinting at the book Jonny said looked like he hadn’t touched yet. Jonny was wrong; Pat had opened the book. On the first day of class when the professor insisted they read along as he read the foreword out loud.

A few minutes later, Pat feels his phone vibrate by his feet at the other end of the couch.

_Read your assigned reading._

Fuck Jonny. He has been reading his assigned reading. But if the shit he’s reading doesn’t make sense in the first place, then it doesn’t fucking help him understand anything.

_What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing asshole?_

Pat throws his phone back towards his feet, forces himself off the couch and pours himself another finger of vodka. It’s the perfect nightcap before the impromptu nap he’s just now decided to take.

When he wakes a few hours later, there is an email in his inbox with a detailed schedule for the next week. It covers all his classes, study hours, free time, and even time allotted for meals and entertainment.

Damn, Jonny is thorough. The schedule starts tomorrow so Pat decides to drag himself to his bed and fall asleep again.

\---

Jonny comes over to Pat’s place Sunday afternoon, he gives Pat a list of YouTube tutorials on proper note taking, sets up a folder in a Google Drive with various docs, including a schedule, more tips on note taking, a list of recommended reading and contacts he should have around campus. He spends thirty minutes going through Pat’s books and tabbing pages Pat should review before the day is over, and finally he makes Pat clean off his desk and insists the couch is not a good study spot in the apartment. Before he leaves, he reminds Pat that they have a study session in the library tomorrow.

According to the schedule Jonny has put together, Pat has classes from 9am to 3pm, with a one hour window for lunch. After that Jonny will be meeting him at the library at 3:30 for a two hour study session, before he goes home to work on his paper for his ethics class. This schedule may just kill him, but he doesn’t really have anything else to do here.

When he meets with Jonny at the library, Jonny leads him to the study room he’s reserved. “Anytime the schedule calls for a library session, come to this study room. I’ve reserved it for every time slot you have on that schedule for the semester,” Jonny tells him in hushed tones as they walk towards the room.

Pat sits at the table and starts pulling out his books, but he isn’t really sure what he should be studying or really how to even study for anything he has coming up, but Jonny is prepared.

He pulls out a list of the upcoming assignments Pat has and starts giving him a breakdown of what he needs to do that week. “Wait,” Pat interrupts him, “how do you have my assignments for all my classes? And how do you know my full schedule?”

“I work for Q. He has ties, he got me everything,” Jonny responds.

Pat mutters something about invasion of privacy, but he’s really just looking for reasons to be angry about this whole situation.

After two hours in the library, Jonny has helped Pat restructure the outline for his upcoming ethics essay and he’s got head start on what he should be reading for his next criminal law class. The time flies by and for the first time since he stepped foot on the campus, Pat feels like he’s actually absorbed some information outside of the classroom.

“Thanks man,” Pat says as he packs his back, “I actually feel like I learned something.”

“It’s just a matter of planning and sticking to those plans,” Jonny says, “stick with the schedule and everything will fall into place.”

Pat smiles at him but Jonny just gives his typical scowl that Pat is already used to.

\---

After a week, Pat feels refreshed. Tired, but refreshed. He understands more of what’s going on in his classes, he doesn’t feel like walking out every five minutes, and he didn’t absolutely bomb the pop quiz Q gave on Friday.

He’s sitting in his apartment Friday night during one of the designated “entertainment hours” Jonny has put on the schedule. He’s currently destroying people on Call of Duty, when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

_How did the quiz go in Q’s class?_

Jonny, of course, checking in on school during his free time.

_Fine. what r u up to? Wanna play COD?_

It takes a while for Jonny to reply and it sort of surprises Pat when he gets a _sure_ back. He decides he should maybe pick up around his apartment a bit before Jonny gets there. He shoves the boxes he had started packing last week into his closet and checks to make sure there is some beer in the fridge.

About 20 minutes later, there is knock at the door, but Pat doesn’t let Jonny in right away.

“Did you know there was going to be a quiz?” Pat says as he stares down Jonny.

“Why did you invite me over here? Don’t you have any friends?” Jonny rebuttals. Pat looks down at his feet and is clearly upset with the question.

“I don’t have any,” Pat tries, attempting not to let out a sniffle from the gut reaction to cry when his loneliness is brought up. “I don’t have any friends here.”

Jonny shoulders past Pat into the apartment, avoiding eye contact with him before changing the subject. “Even if I did, that would have put you at an unfair advantage and we can’t have that, now can we?” Jonny says as he heads towards the couch, turning back to smirk at Pat at the end of the answer to Pat’s earlier question.

“You being my tutor or mentor or whatever already puts me at an unfair advantage, don’t you think?” Pat says, heading over to the couch and grabbing the XBox controllers as he sits down.

“Just accept the help Pat,” Jonny laughs, “follow the schedule and study what I tell you.”

“Okay, Jonny, okay.”

A few hours and quite a few beers later, Patrick is viciously shooting anything in sight in Call of Duty, he doesn’t even care if they’re on his team, he just likes shooting and blowing shit up. Jonny appears to actually be trying to play, but it makes sense that mister monotone robot man has to be the best at a pointless game.

Pat dies, which was inevitable, but he wasn’t trying to win the game. He chucks the remote at the floor and sinks further into his couch.

“So did you really apply here to impress a girl?” Jonny asks, he’s still clicking around on the remote but not setting up a new game.

Patrick groans. He doesn’t really want to talk about this and he told Jonny what he needed to know earlier, so he gives Jonny a simple, “Yep.”

“So, why aren’t you continuing your quest to impress her by actually doing well here?”

Huh. Patrick hasn’t thought about it like that. He has just been in a pointless downward tailspin since he got here and discovered Nicole was with a new guy. She doesn’t want him back clearly, so why bother trying… Except maybe he could still get her, maybe if he proves he is just as good, even better than Mr. Fancy Dick than she would still be into him…

“I was gonna propose,” Pat starts, and that gets Jonny’s attention enough that he sets down the controller and turns on the couch to face Pat. “I had a ten thousand dollar Tiffany engagement ring in my pocket. Took her out to her favorite restaurant, the spot of our first date, and all of a sudden, she was breaking up with me and I was trying not to scream in the middle of the place.”

“I’m sorry man,” Jonny says, reaching out to grab Pats shoulder to try and comfort him. “That’s rough.”

“I don’t even think she knew about it,” Pat sighs, “I never even got to pull out the ring. I went back to the house, a few guys tried to lure me out of my room, instead I spent the night drinking with them and telling them everything. I was trashed when I came up with this brilliant plan.

“Get into Harvard. Didn’t seem hard at first. Studied my ass off, took about 12 LSAT practice tests. I even hired a private tutor. My admission essay was a goddamn work of art and the best thing I have ever wrote. I earned my spot here.

“And then I show up to the first day of welcome week, and she already has a new asshat on her arm. Some blue blood guy from a political family. Just because my parent’s are new money, it makes me incompatible with her family.”

Pat’s been talking for a few minutes now, probably over sharing, but it feels good. He hasn’t had anyone to talk to like this since he left Illinois. And he may have just met Jonny earlier this afternoon, but they seem to have a bit of a connection. Q seemed to think they would work well together and so far, Pat can’t disagree with him.

“So why don’t you prove her wrong,” Jonny starts enthusiastically, basically jumping off the couch to turn and face Pat. “Don’t just settle for having gotten into Harvard. Show her you can do it too. Show her, regardless of bloodlines, that you are better than the new guy.”

“I’ve been trying,” Pat says.

Jonny lets out the loudest laugh Pat has heard. “Sure, sure you have. You were writing out your notes by hand, you hadn’t finished a single assignment for Q’s class. You were failing basically everything a month into the semester, which I think might be a new record. You weren’t trying worth shit.”

“It’s hard.”

“It’s fucking Harvard, Patrick,” Jonny says pushing Pat’s shoulder. “It’s not gonna be a walk on the fucking beach. This school is for the best of the best. Presidents, senators, supreme court justices. This isn’t a school for anyone, you have to be one of the best to get in here. Do you know the acceptance rate here?”

“No.”

“15.6 percent. That’s it. Of all the people who have completed undergrad, looked at Harvard Law School’s tough as fuck admission standards and thought ‘I could do this’, then finished the entire application, only 15.6 percent of those people have gotten into school here,” Jonny states.

“Shit…” Pat mumbles. He never really thought about it like that. School is school. It wasn’t that hard for him to get into UIC, so why should it have been that hard to get into Harvard? Nicole did it but she’s also a legacy with some admissions connections. Pat had nothing. A flimsy 3.8 GPA at UIC and some hope, but he did it.

“So maybe if you got off your ass, stopped moping around, and actually tried to focus in class,” Jonny continues, “you can pass this semester and every semester here. Have you heard of Q’s internship?”

“Q’s what?”

“Q is a partner at a law firm.” Jonny settles back into his seat. “They pick like four freshmen each year for an internship. They get to do bitch-work on cases for the year, but it’s basically the best credential for a resume you can get while here. I was picked my freshmen year and it was the best experience I’ve had.”

“How did I not know about this?” Pat asks.

“Do you pay attention in class?” Jonny raises an eyebrow looking back at Pat.

“Good point,” Pat laughs.

Jonny starts to get up. “I’m gonna head out dude, but I’ll see you tomorrow at one for our study session?”

“Yeah,” Pat says while looking at the clock on his cable box. “But dude it’s 3am. Just crash on the couch. You look ready to fall asleep standing up.”

Jonny yawns as Pat finishes his sentence, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. My place is like a twenty minute walk.”

Pat stands and waves at the couch, saying, “It’s all yours dude,” before walking over to turn off the TV and XBox. “Help yourself to coffee or whatever in the morning. I’ll probably sleep right until noon so I’ll see you then.”

“Do you want to sleep until noon, or do you want to go to practice with me tomorrow and let out some of your anger on the ice?”

“Hockey?” Pat questions.

“Yeah, practice Saturday’s, games Sunday’s,” Jonny replies.

“I miss playing.”

“You wanna come to practice? It’s just beer league, I’m sure Sharpy won’t mind. Plus he’s always on our asses about recruiting other guys,” Jonny suggests.

“Sure, that’d be great. I don’t have any gear with me though, just skates.”

“I’m sure we can pull some shit together tomorrow, then you can just get your own for the next practice.”

“Okay, yeah, that works,” Pat says, trying to hide the smile taking over his face.

“We’ll leave here tomorrow at 8:30, swing by my place to grab my gear and head to the rink,” Jonny says as he settles into the sofa.

“Okay Jonny,” Pat laughs, “see ya tomorrow.” He heads towards his room, shutting off the lights on his way.

 

**III.**

 

A month after meeting Jonny, Pat’s grades have improved greatly; he has an actual study schedule and he doesn’t consider dropping out of school every five minutes.

He’s sitting in Q’s class, taking a pop quiz and unlike the first one he sat through, Pat understands about 90% of the questions and feels fairly confident in his answers. He actually has been enjoying this class, quite a bit more than he expected. When he finishes the quiz, he heads to the front of the class to turn it in.

“Kane,” Q stops him before he can leave the classroom. “I’d like to speak to you after class. Take a seat.”

Pat’s stomach sinks with a flashback to that first exam when Q asked him the same thing. All the confidence he felt coming into this class today whooshes out of him as he heads back to his seat. He pulls out his planner and looks at his schedule to see what he can get a head start on while he waits for everyone else to finish the quiz.

Twenty minutes later, the last student hands in his quiz and Pat has a solid start to the outline for the ethics paper he needs to work on. Q walks over towards Pat’s desk and leans on the one in front of him.

“So Kane,” Q starts, sounding much less angry than Pat had anticipated. “I have seen a vast improvement in your work since you’ve been working with Toews.”

“Uhh..” Pat starts, “well, yeah, I guess he’s helped me out a lot. He’s helped me with study techniques and schedules and whatnot.”

“Good.” Q says matter-of-factly, and it seems like he expects Pat to say something, but Pat really has no idea what to do. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Q continues, “I haven’t seen your resume come across my desk for the internship yet.”

“Well, uh…” Pat knows Jonny expected him to apply, which means Q was probably waiting for it as well, but he just doesn’t feel like he’s doing well enough to justify adding to his workload, and he doesn’t really want to feel the disappointment of yet another rejection.

“Don’t give me that Kane,” Q doesn’t let Pat try to stutter out the next part of whatever he was going to say. “I want to see your resume for the internship. You’ve shown one of the biggest improvements I’ve seen from any student and I still think you have a shit ton of potential in that head of yours. You have just as good of a chance as any other student in this class to get the job. So. Resume. You should have an email with the deadline and requirements. Have Jonny help you out.”

Q stands up straight and walks back towards his desk, not giving Pat a chance to protest.

\--

Pat texts Jonny as he leaves the building.

_Can we meet up soon? Q wants me to apply for the internship._

He heads towards the library to get ready for his next study session for one hour per the schedule Jonny helped him come up with a few weeks ago. It’s really working for Pat and the note taking tips Jonny gave him are fucking awesome. He can type like a pro now and he’s figured out a good shorthand to keep up in classes where the professors talk faster than he can type (which are all of his classes). Pat’s also become way more familiar with the law library at school than he ever would have thought necessary.

He’s learned to live without his phone during these study sessions. It goes on silent, not vibrate, and shoved to the bottom of his backpack. It’s almost therapeutic spending an hour or two nowadays without the constant worry of what’s happening on social media, but if Pat’s being honest here, social media hasn’t really been his friend lately anyway.

He still doesn’t have that many friends on campus. Jonny is the only person he might consider a friend but then he remembers that it is basically Jonny’s job to be working with him, and he doesn’t like that. He’s met a few people from group projects, but no one he’s gotten particularly close to. He’s managed to avoid Nicole and her new boyfriend who’s name is Jamie. His father is a partner at a prestigious law firm in Maine and Jamie has a spot lined up when he graduates. No wonder Nicole’s parents were basically jizzing their pants over him.

Pat has attended a few practices with Jonny’s rec league. Getting out on the ice and skating around and maybe hitting a few guys has really helped with the anger issue Jonny had pointed out to him when they first started meeting.

Overall, his time at Harvard Law has improved by probably 85 percent. Not perfect, but not the hellhole he originally thought it was.

After about an hour of going over his notes for his ethics course, he heads out of the library and checks his phone.

_Of course he does. I told you you should do it. Meet at your place at 6?_

Pat audibly groans. Jonny had kept talking about this internship, but Pat really thought he could avoid it, however it doesn’t seem like that’s the case anymore.

_bring food and beer. it’s friday, i need a drink._

\---

Jonny shows up to Pat’s apartment promptly at six with a selection of sushi (gross, but food) and some snobby craft beer that Pat will complain about but will definitely drink.

They settle in to eat on the couch while Comedy Central plays in the background and they talk about their weeks. Jonny is working on his outline for his dissertation. Pat is trying to figure out this fucking internship problem. Pat definitely can’t help out Jonny, but Jonny offers to help Pat.

Pat pulls out his laptop and they go over his resume. It was the one his school required he meet with a counselor to come up with before he graduated. It was mostly bullshit but it was a starting point. After an hour of back and forth, Jonny finally decides that they have something acceptable to start with.

“Call of Duty?” Pat asks, and Jonny easily agrees.

A few hours and several beers later, they’re still playing CoD but they aren’t really trying, just kind of shooting at random things and shoving each other in the process. Eventually, Pat chucks his remote because he died again and he’s too drunk to figure out how to continue the game.

“Jonny,” Pat slurs, “I don’t know if I tell you enough, but thanks man.”

“Why the fuck are you thanking me Pat?” Jonny says, leaning into Pat’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

“I was about half a day away from dropping out,” Pat starts to make an effort towards getting off the couch, but gives up pretty quickly. “Without your help I’d probably be back in Chicago begging anyone to hire me.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Jonny mumbles, “it was all you. I just showed you some tricks.”

“Okay Jonny,” Pat shoves at his shoulder. “Time for bed. You can crash on the couch if you want.”

Pat makes another attempt at lifting himself up off the couch but, again, doesn’t make it very far before falling back. He feels Jonny lean into his shoulder and decides to close his eyes for just a second. In just a minute, he’ll wake up and make the long hike to his bedroom.

\--

Pat slowly blinks awake and he can tell immediately that he isn’t in his bed and that he isn’t laying down completely. He can also feel that someone has their arm around his shoulder and he’s very comfortably tucked into whoever it is’ side. After thinking about it for a minute and trying to blink himself awake a few more times, he realizes the person who is basically wrapped around him is Jonny.

“Jonny,” Pat groans trying to shove the dead weight off of him. “Jonny,” he groans, louder this time.

Jonny slowly starts to stir and Pat is able to peel himself out from under his arm. “Dude,” Pat slurs, “we passed out on the couch.”

“Whatimeisit,” Jonny mumbles.

Pat grabs his phone off the table next to the couch. Shit.

“It’s 8:30,” Pat elbows Jonny, “you gotta get ready for practice, man.”

Jonny groans and doesn’t really move much. Pat gets of the couch and grabs Jonny’s arm, forcibly lifting him off.

“Fuck off.”

“Nope. Practice for you, study day for me.”

Jonny wobbles when he fully stands, rubbing his eyes and yawning before reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. Pat walks to the kitchenette and starts his coffee maker.

“You’re coming to practice too,” Jonny says, still looking at his phone.

“Nope, paper due for my business law class,” Pat responds.

“Nope,” Jonny replies, popping the ‘p’ the same way Pat had, “you are coming to practice and you are playing tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Sharpy texted me, Nick has his sister’s wedding all weekend and we’re already short guys. Apparently he wants you.”

“Dude, I really don’t have time, I have so much to do.”

“You practice for one hour and play in the game tomorrow and I will make sure you get this paper done. I’ll be your personal cheerleader for the weekend. Sharpy gets what he wants and he will have my ass if I show up without you.”

“Fuck,” Pat groans, “okay but you’re driving. And you’re buying me lunch.”

“Deal,” Jonny says excitedly, “I’m gonna run back to my place, grab my equipment and I’ll be back to pick you up in 15. Bring me out a cup of coffee when I get here?”

“Fine.”

\---

Pat is fucking tired. He’d skated harder than he had in years at practice. Sharpy really wanted to put him through the ringer, trying to decide what line to put him on for the game tomorrow. Dude takes this whole beer league way too seriously, but Pat got to skate and he wasn’t going to complain.

“Where are we going for lunch, Toes?” Pat hears Sharpy call across the room.

“Not today Sharp. I promised Pat lunch for showing up and playing tomorrow. Then we gotta hit the books.”

“Awwww, lil Peekaboo’s gotta eat then study? How cute.”

Pat cringes at the nickname. They all have them there since Sharpy is also Patrick. Jonny’s called Toes because nobody knows how to pronounce his name and apparently Pat has been graced with Peekaboo and he hates it.

“Ugh,” Jonny lets out before looking towards Pat. “Do you mind if Sharpy goes with us? He’s not gonna leave me alone.”

“Hey, I heard that!”

“I fucking know,” Jonny yells back at Sharpy.

“Yeah man, I don’t care,” Pat says.

Sharpy walks over and ruffles Pat’s curls on his way to the showers. “Alright boys, I’ll be ready to go in ten. Jonny’s driving.”

\---

They find themselves at a small sandwich shop just off campus, deep in discussion over the lines and game plan for tomorrow, before Sharpy decides he’s bored with the topic.

“So Peekaboo,” he says, “how did you and Toes here meet?” He nudges Jonny’s side as he asks the question and Jonny groans again, something he seems to do a lot around Sharpy.

“I was failing like all my classes and a professor thought he might be a good mentor or whatever,” Pat responds, deciding he might as well be blunt about it. Sharpy doesn’t go to school with them, He’s actually a real adult with a real job and a wife with a kid on the way.

“Jonny boy here is a good influence,” Sharpy laughs, “that sounds so typical. So how’s that working out for you now?”

“Well, I’m passing my classes now.”

“I’ve already heard Jonny’s whole sports-lawyer-concussion-college-athlete spiel. What makes you wanna be a lawyer?” Sharpy asks with a mouthful of food.

“Well, uh.” Pat still hasn’t really worked out the answer to that. He has ideas. He’d still like to work for a team, he still wants to be involved in hockey somehow, but Harvard was never his intended path, so he’s still lost, even if he’s doing better in school now.

“Still working that out, I guess,” is the answer he goes with.

“You some kind of legacy? Mom and dad make you go here?”

“Uh, no.” Pat really doesn’t want to go into the whole thing but he feels like Sharpy might be another friend and he kind of wants to talk to him. Maybe he has sage words of wisdom, even if he’s only a few years older than Jonny.

“He followed a girl out here,” Jonny says with almost a snarl in his voice.

“No shit!” Sharpy starts laughing. “You came all the way out here for a girl?”

“She wasn’t just any girl,” Pat tries.

“Do tell.” Sharpy leans in, putting his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands, fluttering his eyes like he’s a child waiting for his bedtime story.

“Her name is Nicole and she goes here too. I was going to propose last year but before I could, she told me that I wasn’t good enough for her and her family. So, I thought I would prove her wrong and get into Harvard and show her I’m just as good as them. They all went here.”

“Solid plan,” Sharpy says.

“Yeah, but I got here and it was hard. I kept seeing her and she was already with a new guy. Some dude her parents approved of who was already much better than me at this whole law school thing, and I kinda lost it. Stopped caring and shit, until Q got to me and made me start working with Jonny.”

“Aw, how cute,” Sharpy preens, “so now everything’s peachy keen with school and you are gonna work to get your girl back?”

“I don’t think there is any getting her back.”

“Oh, there’s always a way to get the girl back.”

Jonny groans again, even though he hasn’t been contributing to the conversation and is just angrily poking at his French fries.

“She’s already found someone else, I’m just gonna have to prove I can do this for myself now,” Pat says.

“Nope, not gonna happen. You’re gonna graduate from Law School and you’re gonna get your girl. That’s it, I’ve decided,” Sharpy resolves.

“And how’s that gonna work out? She’s with someone else.”

“Jonny is your school mentor so I’m going to be your life and women mentor. Patrick Sharp: Ladies Man to help you get your lady, man. Okay the title needs help, but we will figure this out.”

“I gotta piss,” Jonny says abruptly and gets up, throwing his napkin down on the plate and heading to the bathroom.

“What stick is up his ass? He was fine earlier?” Sharpy asks.

“No idea,” Pat says and he is truly confused. He knows Jonny has a bit of a reputation for being angry and serious all the time but he’s almost never that way around him or around Sharpy when he sees them together. “Maybe he needs to get laid, all this talk about chicks is probably reminding him he hasn’t hooked up in a while.”

And Patrick would know, they spend most of their weekends studying and playing call of duty. And Jonny has his campus job with Q most weeknights still. Pat is pretty sure he hasn’t been able to get laid.

“Maybe we need to find him a girl,” Pat suggests.

“No can do there, Peekaboo,” Sharpy laughs, “Jonny would not approve.”

“Why not? Everyone needs to get laid.”

“You are correct there but Jonny is not about to hop in bed with a girl anytime soon, if you get my drift,” Sharpy says before making a crude gesture with his mouth and hand to represent a blowjob.

“Oh,” is the only thing Pat can think to respond with. Sharpy goes back to eating his food and Jonny is sliding back into the booth before Pat remembers that he should probably talk again.

“So I think I’m gonna head back and start studying,” Pat blurts out.

“Alright,” Jonny says, shoveling the last few tries in his mouth, “lemme pay and we can head to your place.”

“No, that’s cool,” Pat says while standing and reaching for his wallet. He throws down a twenty, saying, “That’s for mine. I think I’m gonna study alone tonight. I can’t have any distractions. I’ll see you guys for the game tomorrow, yeah?”

He doesn’t let them answer before heading to the door, but he’s pretty sure he hears Jonny give out a weak “Pat,” before he exits the place.

\--

Pat has a hell of a time trying to finish his paper. He could have (should have) asked Jonny for help, but he wanted to see if he could do it on his own. He has two and a half, almost three, more years of school and he can’t rely on Jonny for that whole time.

So, he did it. He almost missed the game he promised to play in, but he did it.

He shows up just in time to hastily throw on his gear for warm ups and while lacing up his skates Jonny comes over, “Hey man,” Jonny asks with a concerned tone. “I thought I was going to help you out with your paper?”

“Nah, it’s all good. Submitted it right before I left.”

“I could have at least proofread it for you.”

“It’s fine,” Pat snaps, “it’s fine. It’s done. I turned it in. I can do work on my own sometimes.”

“Pat, I was just trying to help, no need to fucking snap at me.”

Pat huffs in response and doesn’t say anything, continuing to lace up his skates until Jonny walks away.

\---

Pat continues his school work and keeps up with his study schedule that Jonny sends him, but it hasn’t been the same since that weekend where he played with Jonny’s team. Pat doesn’t really have a problem with Jonny being into guys. He really, really doesn’t. But he feels like maybe Jonny should have clued him in.

He’s having a hard time this week. It’s midterms, he has a big exam in every class, and he feels like the weight of the schoolwork might be too much. Almost like it was before he met Jonny, but he doesn’t tell anyone. He powers through, and somehow survives midterms. His next hurdle is turning in the resume, it’s still sitting on his desktop, he hasn’t touched it since that night Jonny had first looked at it. The deadline continues to creep closer, but he’s still unsure about it.

He’s gotten to know a few people in his classes since he finally started trying in school. He’s able to hold conversations about school work, because he understands it now, which eventually has lead to just talking to people more often. So, after he finishes his last midterm of the week, one of his classmates catches him outside as he’s leaving.

“Hey, Pat!” The guy calls after him, “Party at Lou’s Bar tonight celebrating the end of midterms. Stop by if you want, all the law students will be there.”

“Okay,” Pat says, unable to keep the smirk off his face. “I’ll swing by.”

It’s really his first social outing outside of the few times he went out with Jonny and his hockey friends since he got here, and he’s actually kind of excited for the end of midterms and the upcoming fall break, not dreading having to come back to school after.

\---

Pat gets to the bar and the place is buzzing. It’s packed full and there’s a low hum of music and an overall feeling of joy. Everyone is excited to be done with their midterms. Pat heads to the bar to get a drink and when he walks over he finds a familiar face waiting for her drink.

“Hey, Pat,” Nicole says as he stands next to her, “Done with midterms?”

“What do you care?” he snaps back.

“Listen, Pat, I’m very proud of you. I honestly never thought you would make it a week here,” she says smiling up at him.

“Well, I guess that shows how much you really cared about me when we were together,” he says, looking up and down the bar trying to get the attention of one of the bartenders and refusing to look her in the eyes.

“It was all for the best Pat, you should know that. Look how good-”

Pat cuts her off, “You keep saying that, you keep saying this was all for the best, but what the fuck do you know? You never even gave me a chance or a choice. How do you know this wouldn’t have worked if you had just given me a fucking clue-”

“Pat!”

His name being shouted from across the bar interrupts his rant and he looks over to see a very, very happy Jonny rushing towards him.

“Oh for fucks sake,” he laments as Jonny approaches and throws his arm around his shoulder.

“You did it, you finished midterms,” Jonny says, holding his bottle up for Pat to clink, but Pat still hasn’t managed to get a drink. “Oh shit, are you Nicole?”

Jonny is drunk. Like, will soon be unable to stand on his own drunk. Pat maneuvers out from Jonny’s hold and turns back to Nicole. “Sorry about him,” Pat says as Jonny refocuses his attention to the bar trying to get another drink, “Can we talk sometime that isn’t in a bar filled with drunks?” he questions while gesturing towards Jonny.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Nicole answers.

“Just a cup of coffee or whatever, we just… Things ended… I just need to have one civil conversation.”

Jonny has apparently focused his attention back on Pat. “Go with him, anyone would be lucky to talk to Pat, Pat is a good guy,” he says, bringing a hand up to ruffle through his curls.

“Okay… Sure, coffee,” she says with a forced half smile.

“I’ll text you,” Pat says as she turns back into the crowd.

Jonny has gotten the attention of the bartender in the meantime and Pat turns back to a beer in front of him, Jonny still plastered along his side.

“Good job on your midterm for Q,” Jonny slurs, “saw the grades this afternoon before I left.”

“Should you be telling me this?”

“Nope,” Jonny says, popping the ‘p’ before taking a big gulp of beer.

“You’re wasted man,” Pat laughs.

“And you are talking to me again,” Jonny says, nudging his shoulder.

Pat feels a flush taking over his cheeks and looks down at his beer, fingernail digging at the label on his beer.

“You came over to me, and you’re drunk,” Pat laughs again at Jonny, who hasn’t noticed the way Pat has started to flush and continues to lean into Pat.

“‘M drunk but I deserve it. School is hard,” Jonny slurs, the alcohol starting to affect his speech more.

“You’re telling me.”

Jonny leans harder into him and Pat can see he is almost down for the count. “Come on drunky, you need some food.” Pat grabs Jonny by the arm and directs him towards the door.

“Where we going?” Jonny slurs.

“My place. It’s right around the corner and I don’t want to drag your giant ass much further.”

“Hey! My ass is great, don’t talk about it,” Jonny says as they finally make it outside.

They walk in silence the short distance to Pat’s place. Jonny continues to lean against him, but Pat isn’t sure if it is for support or just because Jonny apparently gets very touchy when drunk.

Pat unlocks his apartment door with Jonny basically plastered to his back and still doesn’t say anything. He walks in, slides off his shoes and hangs up his coat before heading to the kitchenette.

“What do you want to eat?” he asks as he opens the fridge, pulling out two beers. He heads over the the counter to get a bottle opener and as he sets the two drinks down, he feels Jonny’s arms wrap around his middle from behind.

“I’m so proud of you Pat,” Jonny says in a low voice with his mouth against Pat’s neck.

Pat is instantly overwhelmed by everything, he doesn’t know what to say or do, and he’s frozen in place as he feels Jonny’s lips skim over his neck.

“Jonny,” Pat says on an exhale. He’s having a hard time forming a coherent thought. He uses his elbow to put some space between himself and Jonny. “Jonny.. wai… wait, Jonny.”

He puts a bit of force into his shove to give himself some space to turn around and face Jonny. He looks up at Jonny whose eyes look full of hunger and want. Pat knows his face is bright red and he doesn’t think he’s hiding his desire very well, but he doesn’t want this to happen right now. He’s too confused.

Before he can say anything else, Jonny is leaning in and capturing Pat’s mouth with his own.

“Jonny,” Pat tries again against Jonny’s lips.

“What?”

Pat pulls his mouth back and leans his forehead against Jonny’s. “I don’t think… I don’t think this is a good idea… I don’t… I don’t do…”

His words aren’t coming out and he isn’t sure what to do. He’s telling Jonny no but his hand is reaching to grab Jonny’s side like he wants to pull him back in.

“Pat,” Jonny whines before leaning in and taking Pat’s mouth again. His tongue is sliding into Pat’s mouth and Pat can’t help but moan although he does manage to start pushing Jonny away.

“Not,” Pat says breathlessly, “not tonight… Please, Jonny.”

Jonny turns away and reaches up to rub his face. “No Pat, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. Maybe I assumed…”

“It’s just…”

“No I get it, just… I’m gonna leave,” Jonny says while heading towards the door, grabbing his shoes and jacket before Pat can protest.

\---

Pat groans and rolls over to grab his phone off the table next to his bed. Someone is banging on his door, but he doesn’t want to move. He checks his phone and sees that it is well afternoon.

“Open up, Peekaboo,” he hears a voice echo through the apartment to his room.

Fucking Sharpy.

Pat drags himself out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants that were lying on the floor as he heads to the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Pat mutters as he opens the door.

“Good afternoon to you too, Peeks,” Sharpy says, shoving a coffee in Pat’s hand and heading to the couch, making himself more than at home in Pat’s apartment.

“Why are you here?” Pat asks, “and how the fuck did you find out where I live?”

“I know everything,” Sharpy smirks.

“Why. Are. You. Here?” Pat grits out again.

“You missed practice this morning and as captain, I must check that all my players are healthy and well.”

“I’m not even on the team, Sharpy. I just practice with you guys sometimes,” Pat groans, sitting on the other end of the couch.

“You practice with the team, you are on the team. Plus, a little birdie may have told me you didn’t have the best night,” Sharpy says.

“He said what?”

“This little birdie told me that you ran into your ex and she reluctantly agreed to meet you for coffee and that may be why you are so upset.”

Okay, so Jonny wasn’t going around and telling people about whatever had happened last night.

“Yeah,” Pat sighs, “she wasn’t happy about it, but she said she would meet up with me.”

“Well, Peekaboo,” Sharpy says, sitting up straight again and looking at Pat. “That is where I come in to help you win back the girl.”

“I don’t know,” Pat starts.

“Don’t know what?”

“She just, I don’t know man, maybe it’s a lost cause.”

“And Jonny tells me you thought school was a lost cause too, but look at where you are now. And Sharpy knows all the special tips for winning a ladies heart, just do what I say and whatsername will be back on your arm in no time.”

Before Pat has a chance to attempt to shoo Sharpy from his apartment again, there’s another knock at the door.

“Hold on a sec,” he says as he gets up from the couch and heads to open the door.

“Pat, I just wanted to stop by-” Jonny starts as the door swings open.

“Jonny, hi, how are you?” Pat says quickly, interrupting Jonny and swinging the door completely open to give Jonny a view of the couch, before he has a chance to say something neither of them want Sharpy to hear.

“Oh hey... Sharpy,” Jonny says, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck and looking down in embarrassment.

“Tazer! Now this is a party,” Sharpy exclaims, “break out the beers, Peeks. It’s Saturday afternoon and none of us have work or school tomorrow!”

“I don’t know Sharpy…” Patrick starts, “maybe not--”

“What do you mean? It’ll be great. Won’t it be great, Toes?” Sharpy asks, continuing before Jonny can answer, “I just came over to talk to Peeks here and help him with his girl problem.”

“I don’t have a girl problem-”

“Do you have the girl?” Sharpy asks turning to look at Patrick.

“No, but-”

“Then you have a problem,” Sharpy exclaims, “and I, the fixer of all lady problems, am here to help you fix it.”

Pat sighs and puts his face in his hands, heading back to the couch. Sharpy pulls Pat into his side as he sits down.

“I’m just gonna go-” Jonny starts from the spot by the door that he hasn’t left.

“Jonathan Toews, don’t you dare leave this apartment. Do you have any plans other than studying or working out today?” Sharpy asks.

“Uh..”

“Then get your ass to that refrigerator, grab three beers, and sit your ass down in this chair right here,” Sharpy says, using his free hand to point to the chair next to Pat.

\---

Two hours later,  Pat is feeling a little tipsy, Jonny has a scowl on his face that is probably going to stay there forever, and Sharpy continues to prod Pat about every facet of his relationship with Nicole.

Pat is finally the first to break, and he’s honestly surprised Jonny is still here.

“Fucking shut up, Sharpy,” Pat interrupts him while he plots out Pat’s non-existent upcoming date with Nicole. He stands up and drags Sharpy up with him, saying, “You’re fucking leaving and we are not talking about this anymore.”

“Awwwww come on Peekaboo,” Sharpy pleads, “we’re having so much fun.”

“Nope, no, we are not,” Pat says, leading Sharpy to the door and shoving him out. Sharpy starts laughing, knocks on the door a few times and finally, Pat hears the footsteps go down the hallway.

He’s been leaning against the door with his eyes closed since he shut it, trying to control his breathing, when he remembers Jonny is still in the room. Pat doesn’t want to open his eyes and face Jonny in the room after getting rid of Sharpy. He wishes Jonny would have left, despite what Sharpy said earlier.

“Uh,” Jonny finally says, forcing Pat to open his eyes. “I just wanted to come by and I really didn’t expect Sharpy to be here. I had a whole thing planned and kind of forgotten everything I wanted to say because he wouldn’t stop talking.”

“Typical Sharpy,” Pat laughs, “and don’t-- don’t worry about it. No big deal. It never happened.”

Jonny looks back down at his feet.

“Anyway, I still need help with my resume and cover letter and shit for Q’s internship,” Pat continues, “and I have a huge econ law test coming up. Think you can still help me out?”

Jonny looks back up at Pat, his face no longer stuck in a scowl, but he definitely doesn’t look happy. “Yeah, sure, Pat. Still on for our sessions for the rest of the week? We can work on your resume for a bit in each of those,” Jonny says, getting up to head to the door Pat is still leaning on.

“Yep, yeah, that works for me.”

Jonny is standing in front of Pat now, looking down at his feet again.

“You gonna let me leave?”

“What?” Pat asks mindlessly, eyes also on Jonny’s shoes. “Oh yeah, sorry. See you Monday afternoon?” He moves away from the door and avoids any kind of eye contact.

“Yeah, sure,” Jonny says before opening the door. “Bye Pat.”

“Bye Jonny,” Patrick whispers to himself, seconds after the door closes.

\---

The next week of study sessions with Jonny isn’t any less awkward. They only talk about school or the internship. They never let the conversation veer into anything off topic, especially avoiding anything that can get too personal.

But Pat does it. He finishes his resume and cover letter, and Jonny thinks it will definitely get him the position.

\---

Pat goes to the Kinko’s near campus and has a few copies of his resume printed on weighted, textured paper. Some websites had said that this would help his stick out in the stack of resumes potential employers looked at, so he figured why not.

He spends a good while discussing the pros and cons of different papers with the cute girl working at the counter before finally selecting one and getting 10 copies printed.

A few hours later, Q is finishing up his lecture and dismissing the class, reminding everyone that resumes for the internship are due before five if they want to be considered for the job.  

On his way out of the classroom Pat walks to Q’s desk and sets down the freshly printed resume. The professor looks up from his note-taking to eye Pat suspiciously.

“So you think you’re ready for this?” he asks as he grabs the paper.

“No,” Pat hesitates, “but you said you wanted me to apply, so here I am.”

“I would have thought you might get over this self doubt you have by now, Kane. Since dedicating yourself to schoolwork, you’ve been one of the best students, not only in my class, but other professors have mentioned it too.”

Pat feels himself turning red. He was used to the praise before he came to school here, but everything had gotten him so down on himself when he started that he doesn’t think he can compete with those who got a head start on him.

“Thank you,” Pat starts, “I’ve been trying. It’s hard. I know I’m not the best student here, but I’ve definitely been working on being better.”

“You have just as good a chance as anyone in any of my classes to get a spot, I’ll post a list of those selected outside my office Friday at three.”

“Thank you, again,” Pat says before scurrying out of the classroom.

\---

Friday comes quicker than Pat expected but once the day starts, it moves slower than molasses. The list is posted at 3pm. He has three classes and a meeting with Jonny, and he can’t stop checking the time on his phone.

“Waiting on an important call?” Jonny asks during the middle of their study session.

“No man, just… the list goes up at three and I’m nervous,” Pat admits.

“Hm,” Jonny huffs and it sounds a bit like a laugh. When Pat looks up, he notices a bit of an upward curve to Jonny’s mouth.

“You know something!” Pat accuses, a bit too loud for their library study room.

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh, yes you do. You are a horrible liar, Jonathan Toews,” Pat says, reaching over to poke Jonny in the arm before suddenly recoiling. “Tell me tell me tell me.”

“I know nothing. And even if I did, I can’t tell. The list goes up at three.”

Pat leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “You are no fun.”

Jonny looks back down at his book and that devious smile comes back across his face. Pat has a sudden realization that he loves that smile, and that he’s had more fun with Jonny, even when he is being an asshole who won’t tell him if he got the internship, than he has had with anyone at both Harvard and UIC.

“Joooooonnnnnnyyyy,” Pat whines, “just telllllll me.”

“How many words do you have left on your ethics essay?”

“I can’t focus.”

“Write your paper,” Jonny says.

Pat goes back to trying to write his paper but now all he can think about are these feelings for Jonny that suddenly decided to make an appearance, and on today of all days, the day that could basically make or break his future.

He lets his mind wander to the surprise kiss. To the way him and Jonny play hockey. To how Jonny is basically the best friend he has ever had and he’s never even told Jonny that. And maybe he should tell Jonny that, tell Jonny that he is his best friend. That maybe they can be more than friends.

All these feelings are overwhelming Pat, and he needs to tone it down. He needs to think about his future. He needs to worry about school and his grades and this internship. He really fucking hopes he got the internship.

So he sits in the rest of his study session with Jonny, trying to think about the other guy as little as possible. And as soon as their hour is up, Pat rushes out of the library with a quick goodbye and avoids Jonny’s confused gaze.  

 

**IV.**

 

Pat is outside Q’s office at 2:50 because he couldn’t sit around waiting any longer.

“You applied?” He hears the familiar voice from behind him, and turns to see Nicole with her boyfriend behind her.

“Yep,” he responds in a tight voice, trying to not sound angry.

“Good for you,” she smiles and it does nothing to calm him. He turns back and faces the board to patiently wait for the posting.

“Hey, did you still want to get that cup of coffee sometime? I still want to talk,” Pat asks her, and he might as well get it all out on the table now. He can tell from her body language that she’s going back on the offer.

“I just, I don’t think that’s a good idea Patrick,” Nicole says as she leans back into her boyfriend.

“Okay. Yeah, sure. Makes sense,” he says, turning on his heels and facing the office door, trying not to get angry as he waits for someone to post the list already.

Eventually, Jonny, of all fucking people, walks out of Q’s office and posts a single piece of paper to the bulletin board. Pat’s too far away to make out the four names, but he’s pretty sure by now, that his name won’t be there.

Jonny walks up to him and grabs his shoulder. “Congrats Pat,” he says close to Pat’s ear and Pat feels a shiver go through him.

Pat doesn’t reply, he just pushes his way through the crowd to see his name.

“Fuck yes!” he yells and throws his fists into the air. He can’t believe it. He didn’t even look at the other names on the list. His name is up there; he got the fucking internship.

“Hey Nicole.” He’s not even thinking anymore, he’s just saying stuff. “Am I still not fucking good enough for you?”

He’s laughing. He’s nearly hysterical and starts to walk away before he can lose it anymore. He doesn’t notice that Jonny is following him until he’s nearly at the building exit and Jonny grabs his arm and yells his name to get his attention.

“Dude,” Jonny says, “congrats, and good job not losing your cool back there.”

“Yeah,” Pat laughs, “mighta went a bit crazy for a second.”

“Just a bit.”

“But yeah, thanks man, couldn’t have done it without you.”

“No problem… So hey, we should celebrate. A few of my friends are going out to a bar tonight, wanna go?”

“Not sure if we have the best track records at bars,” Pat says, trying to keep his voice light.

“Eh, I won’t drink as much. It will be fine,” Jonny smiles.

“Okay, text me the time and place.”

“Will do, see you tonight Pat,” Jonny beams.

“See you later, Jonny,” Pat smiles back.

\---

They did it. They fucking did it. Well, Pat did it. It was exhilarating. He could finally celebrate and have fun for the first time since he got to school here. Real fun, without the weight of the world crushing him down (well, at least not at this very moment because Q’s internship was probably going to be the hardest thing he has ever done). He met Jonny at the bar nearly an hour ago, and it’s been nothing but cheers and laughter the whole time.  

Sharpy and the entire beer league team somehow ended up at the bar. They’ve got nearly half the place filled with people Pat knows. Others who got the internship, some people he’s become friendly with since he actually started trying, and apparently Jonny coordinated all of this. Started talking to people earlier in the week. Had tables reserved and the tab taken care of.

Pat is starting to think about those feelings for Jonny that creeped up on him again, and it really doesn’t help that Jonny hasn’t left Pat’s side since he stepped into the bar.

Pat has continued to try and push those feelings he has for Jonny to the back of his mind. School and internship, that was why he’s here, but the fuzziness caused by the alcohol and the pure joy from landing the internship is clouding his judgement. And as he thinks about it, he’s deciding that sober Pat would probably be okay with whatever this Pat decides to do with Jonny.

Jonny’s been so good to Pat. He’s been there for him, believed in him, and Pat, well. Pat doesn’t want to keep pushing those feelings away.

He knows he’s doing it, but he hasn’t said anything. He lets himself stand closer to Jonny, even leaning into Jonny on occasion as they wander throughout the very busy bar and stop to talk to people.

It’s getting late and Pat is getting tired, but he doesn’t want to leave Jonny for the night… Or ever.

He turns to face Jonny and puts his hand over Jonny’s pec. It’s a nice pec, he thinks, because Jonny works out and plays hockey. All of him is probably very nice.

“I’m tired,” Pat starts, “I think I’m gonna head out,” he says but doesn’t move. He looks at Jonny with his mouth open.

“Okay,” Jonny says, he’s not moving away either, “I’m so proud of you Pat,” he says for probably the thousandth time this evening.

“Do you wanna,” Pat hesitates, “wanna come back to my place?”

“Pat…”

“Don’t say no, Jonny,” Pat says, moving his hand to grab Jonny’s.

“Okay,” Jonny says, barely above a whisper.

\---

They take a cab back to Pat’s place. They don’t talk, it’s not a long ride, and it’s not awkward. It’s nice just to be next to Jonny. He still has his hand in Jonny’s, only letting go to get into the car. In the car, he lays his head on Jonny’s shoulder. It’s nice, and before he knows it, Jonny is nudging him to get out of the car.

They walk into the building together. Pat finds it difficult to open the doors with one hand, but he manages. They get into the apartment, but before they go anywhere, Pat turns to face Jonny as he closes the door and crowds into his space. Pat presses into Jonny and kisses him. It’s soft and hesitant because he isn’t sure how Jonny will react. They haven’t talked about anything like this since the last time, and he’s pretty sure Jonny thought this was off the table.

After a few seconds of what might be the most chaste kiss Pat has ever had, he pulls back. “I’m so sorry, Jonny,” he says, looking down and away.

“What?” Jonny starts, “what do you mean Pat?”

“After the last time, I was just,” Pat doesn’t know what to say. He was lost, he was confused. He thought it was something he could never want or like. But he was so wrong.

“It’s okay,” Jonny says before pulling Pat back in and kissing him again. It’s much more intense than the last one, their lips are pressed together harder and Jonny opens Pat’s mouth with his own. Jonny takes control and turns them so Pat’s back is against the door.

Pat reaches up and runs his hair through the short hair at the back of Jonny’s neck. Jonny hands are at Pat’s waist, attempting to untuck Pat’s shirt.

Jonny’s moved onto Pat’s neck, giving him some time to breath, but not really think.

“Jon,” Pat breathes, “Jonny-”

Jonny grunts in response.

“Couch, Jonny, let’s go to the- the couch.”

Jonny nuzzles closer into Pat’s neck before pulling back and practically dragging him to the couch.

When they reach the couch, Pat pushes Jonny away. “Wait,” he says breathily, “we should… let’s just talk for a minute…”

Jonny scoots further away from Pat, a soft “okay,” coming from him as he focuses on the floor.

“I just- last time…”

Pat keeps losing the words and he wishes he could just let Jonny feel what he feels, but the world doesn’t work that way, so he has to figure out the words.

“Last time you - we… I stopped it.”

“Yep, remember that,” Jonny says with a laugh, still looking at the floor but trying to cut the tension.

“I haven’t done anything like that, like this since high school. Since... I didn’t think I wanted it. It was always just buddies, just on road trips and tension relief, back in the day, I didn’t think it was a thing I would actually like…

“But then… you were… you… but you know my story. I was so lost and confused at the beginning of the year. I didn’t know what I wanted. I was about to drop out of school.

“I started packing, how crazy is that? The day before I met you I had half my kitchen shit packed in a box and was looking at U-Hauls.”

Jonny has finally stopped looking at the floor and is looking back at Pat with a look of awe.

“And when you, when you started helping me, I got so much better. You were so good and helped me so much. Then you kissed me and I was confused again. I haven’t, not since Nicole, I hadn’t thought of anyone that way. And you were the last person I ever expected--”

Jonny grabs Pat’s shoulder and drags him into a hug. “I didn’t mean to, it was just, you are amazing Pat. Did you know that? You are really, really great.”

Pat blushes and hides his face in the crook of Jonny’s neck. “I didn’t mean to scare you or surprise you. I was drunk, and I thought maybe, but then I was wrong,” Jonny says.

“I’m sorry for freaking out, I really am. Maybe I needed time, maybe if someone had asked first,” he says, quickly darting a glare and an evil grin. “I wouldn’t have kicked you out right away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. I’m here now, and it didn’t take that long,” Pat smiles.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you would ever talk to me again.”

“That thought crossed my mind,” Pat says and Jonny launches himself over Pat, covering his body with his own and shutting Pat up with a messy kiss.

 

**V.**

 

_About two and a half years later_

Pat is shaking. He can’t believe he’s about to take the stage and give the valedictorian commencement speech at Harvard fucking Law School.

It’s been a tough three years. He nearly dropped out, was on track for failing every class his first semester, and now he’s here. Top of his class. When Q calls his name for the speech, it’s a blur. Pat is great with public speaking but this is a whole other thing. His parents are there, his professors are there, Jonny is there.

He may have accidentally included a few f-bombs, but the class knows him well enough that they let out a laugh instead of sitting in awkward silence.

The end of the speech is what worries him. He’s been planning it for months. His classmates know, the professors know, his parents know, Jonny’s mom knows (and is hiding in the wings). Jonny has no fucking clue, but Pat is pretty sure this time when he asks the question, he will get a yes.

“Congratulations to my fellow graduates in the Class of 2012,” Pat ends the scripted graduation part of the speech. The crowd quickly cheers and normally, the person giving said speech would leave the podium. But Pat doesn’t and the crowd quickly notices and quiets.

“I have one more thing I would like to say before I go,” Pat continues, “none of this would be possible, I would be living back home, working some second rate job if it wasn’t for one person. And not thanking him in this speech would be the biggest mistake of my life. So this is for Jonny, Jonathan Toews, the best mentor a guy could ask for. And the best boyfriend,” Pat can feel the tears welling up in his eyes.

He reaches onto the shelf under the podium, he made sure that the box was set there before the graduation ceremony started. “And if he will take me, I think he could be the best husband anyone could ever dream of,” Pat says pulling out the box and opening it to show the titanium band inside to the crowd.

Jonny stands and rushes the stage. He looks furious and while Pat thought this may be one of the reactions, he had really hoped it wouldn’t be.

Jonny basically leaps on stage and stares at Pat, and Pat begins to think he may be murdered, on stage, at his graduation from Harvard Law. All that work for nothing.

“Of course I will, you idiot,” Jonny growls, before grabbing Pat’s face and planting a crushing kiss on his mouth.

  



End file.
